


Edge - A "Yes, Tom" One-Shot

by riddlemetitillatedhiddles (ninecats)



Series: Yes, Tom [33]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1771099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninecats/pseuds/riddlemetitillatedhiddles





	Edge - A "Yes, Tom" One-Shot

"Elizabeth, stop wriggling."

"The rope…"

"It's hemp," Tom remarked with a smirk, lifting his head for only a moment to glance at me before returning to his task.

"It's too itchy," I pouted.

In response, he tightened the ropes further before chastising me, " _There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so._ " The urge to roll my eyes had almost gotten the best of me, as it often did when Tom felt the sudden need to quote Shakespeare, when he added sternly, "Now stop whingeing."

"Yes, sir," I replied, stilling myself as best I could despite my precarious position. Completely nude, I lay on a chaise lounge positioned lengthwise in front of our bed. My thighs were bound to my calves in a relatively relaxed frogtie. Legs forced apart, I was completely on display. Cuffs encircled my wrists, but they weren't connected, leaving my hands free. I knew better than to touch the ropes, though, despite how uncomfortable they were. Finished fixing my restraints, Tom stood up, retrieving our wand vibrator from his open leather satchel and plugging it into the nearest outlet. He handed it to me and sat down on the bed.

Still fully dressed, he ordered, "Turn it on low."

Keeping my eyes trained on his, I obeyed, waiting for the training session to begin. As our relationship progressed, Tom had begun to crave more challenges when it came to our dynamic. In other words, he wanted to push my limits, and while I knew this was a positive thing, I wasn't exactly embracing the idea. So, Tom instituted training and maintenance sessions in order to force me out of my comfort zone, while also giving him an opportunity to explore new activities. We agreed that Tom was allowed pretty much free rein during these sessions, only excluding my hard limits. Of course, I was still allowed to safeword, and whenever he needed or wanted to, he could stop as well.

The maintenance sessions consisted of spankings or other impact punishments administered regardless of behavior, in order to remind me of the painful consequences for failing to behave properly. In addition, there were various training sessions. Tonight was orgasm control. However, it was actually more of a combination punishment/training session, since I'd recently come without permission and Tom thought I needed something memorable to ensure it did not happen again.

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded, taking a prolonged breath to prepare myself.

"Start now." As I pressed the vibrator against my clitoris, he began, "Let's review some things, shall we?"

I nodded again, but judging from his expression, I realized that wasn't enough, and quickly added, "Yes, sir".

"To whom do you belong, Elizabeth?"

"To you, sir. I belong to you."

"And what does that mean?"

"My body is yours, sir."

"And what else is mine?"

The look he gave me was one of stern expectation; it was clear what he wanted to hear. Tremulously, I admitted, "Orgasms, sir. My orgasms belong to you." I shifted slightly. On such a low setting, the vibrator still hadn't really begun to register, but the ropes were terribly scratchy. I knew from experience precisely how much movement I was allowed without attracting Tom's attention. It was a fine line. Too much, and I had a feeling he'd get out the flogger and make my clitoris pay in other ways.

"So when are you allowed to have orgasms, darling?"

"Only when you say, sir," I replied, hoping I sounded as repentant as I felt.

"And yet," he pushed, prompting me with a wave of his hand to commence with apologies.

"I came without your permission, sir, and I am so sorry. I am terribly sorry for having offended you. I disrespected you and I deserve to be punished."

"Yes, you do."

"I know, sir. I'm so sorry." He nodded once, as if to acknowledge that I was indeed forgiven. I lowered my eyes respectfully and waited for him to continue.

"You owe me." Each word he pronounced clearly, as if each was its own command.

"Yes, sir." Gasping softly, I shivered. The vibrator was just starting to do its job.

"When I do allow you to come tonight, I want you to remember that. Because you will earn those orgasms only through penitence, which comes through suffering. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I whispered, my voice quavering just a bit.

"And each orgasm you have will be mine. _Completely mine_." Tom licked his lips, casually running his hand along the growing bulge between his legs. He still did not undress, though. It was going to be a long night.

The incessant vibrations of the device had slowly but decisively increased my body's sensitivity, and my knees began to bounce. Not too terribly, but enough to garner Tom's attention. Quickly I offered, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't worry. You'll be incapable of staying still tonight, so you may move as long as you don't obstruct my view, and as long as you do not remove the vibrator until I say so. You may make as much noise as you like, as well, within reason."

"Thank you, sir." I exhaled with relief, surprised at how generous he was being given the circumstances. The sensations were beginning to overtake me, though, and I bowed against my bonds, breasts jutting out as I did. As my body gradually inched closer and closer to climax, my nipples became even harder, and my legs now quivered. A few seconds later, I moaned audibly. When I did, Tom stood up and removed his shirt. Since our engagement, he'd gained a little weight, and he'd also been working out more, so he looked incredible. He knew I loved his new, fuller physique, and he enjoyed showing it off. The few extra pounds made him look so strong and masculine, and when he turned around, giving me a view of his muscular back and broad shoulders, I groaned.

Turning back to face me, he grinned. "Getting close, darling?"

"Oh… yes, sir," I confessed softly.

"Tell me, could you come right now if I let you?"

"Yes, sirrr…" The urgency had grown exponentially. Now, I was aching to come, the pulsating in my now-tender nub as powerful as an approaching freight train. "Please…"

"Please what, darling?" he asked, his voice lilting and gentle.

"Please, sir, may I come?" He stared at me with a faint smile, but ignored me, and began to undo his belt. His erection was now straining against the front of his trousers. "Please? Sir, please?"

For some reason, the moment he opened his mouth I was fully convinced he was going give me permission; I could not have been more wrong. "Remove the vibrator," he announced.

I thought I misheard him, and I began to speak. "I…" One look, though, and I knew. Closing my mouth, I removed the vibrator with a slight whine and looked up at the ceiling in frustration.

"When you orgasm, to whom do those orgasms belong?" He threw the belt onto the bed and slowly removed his pants, leaving him clad in only his boxer briefs.

"To you, sir."

"And when you come without permission, do you think that should be rewarded?"

"No, sir. I'm sorry." Admittedly, it was pretty absurd for me to think it would be that easy. I tried to calm my mind, preparing myself as much as possible. _Tom told me he'd let me come_ , I thought to myself. _I just need to be patient and show him I'm sorry_.

"Turn the vibrator up to medium, and place it back on your clitoris." I did as he commanded, watching while he finished undressing. Once nude, he straddled the end of the seat, facing me, and began to stroke himself at an unhurried pace, his long fingers firmly grasping his impossibly rigid cock. "Look at me."

My brow furrowed, I tried to keep my eyes trained on his. It didn't take long, though, for the higher setting to make me start to lose control. My heart rate increased, and as it did, so did the throbbing in my clitoris, keeping time with my frenzied pulse. I whimpered, pressing my head back against the soft surface of the chaise's cushion.

"Are you close?"

"Yes, sir," I whined.

"Remove it."

"Oh god…" I did, of course, without hesitation. Once it was off, Tom stood back up and walked up next to me, grabbing my hair and pulling my face towards him.

"Open up," he ordered, though he was pushing between my lips before I had a chance to do anything at all. "Relax your throat." By this point, relaxing at all was close to impossible. I ached for release already, and every muscle in my body was taut from the tension. Regardless, Tom slid his cock into my throat and began to pump tenaciously, his rhythm fast and steady. Determined, I kept from gagging, but I wasn't exactly yielding, either. He didn't stop, though. Mid-thrust, he ordered breathlessly, "Back on."

The irritated noise that leapt from my throat was luckily muffled by Tom's length, now moving at a frenetic pace between my lips. I placed the vibrator back on, the discomfort causing me to cringe slightly as I did. Despite this, the urge rose almost instantaneously. I began to moan once more. Quietly at first, the sounds vibrating around Tom's shaft, but, even in my gorged mouth, soon they were loud enough for him to notice.

He removed his cock and took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it up and forcing my gaze to his. "You will _not_ ," he reminded me.

I nodded, but tears began to stream down my cheeks freely as the frustration took hold. I didn't know how much longer I could control it. My clitoris was now screaming at me, demanding I give the impending orgasm my full attention. It took every ounce of concentration and will to keep it from taking me. "Sir please…"

"Off."

I hesitated, wincing with dread, but I had no choice. No matter the unpleasantness, I would prove my obedience and complete this carnal act of contrition. My anguished cries fast turned into a lengthened wail as I reluctantly lifted the device from my aching spot. My body shook in little waves, trying to calm itself from the inside out.

"Darling," Tom purred reassuringly, wiping the tears from my flushed cheeks, "you're doing brilliantly. Almost done with this part, okay?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. Tired yet eager, I looked up into his eyes and my bottom lip trembled. He leaned down and kissed me, his hands cupping my face as he did.

Once he'd righted himself, his voice turned colder again, and he directed me, "On high." He waited just for a moment to hear the tell-tale heightened drone of the torturous machine. "Now back on."

As I complied, I blurted out one word under my breath: "Fuck." It was barely audible, but it was disrespectful nonetheless.

In response, Tom promptly showed me that the time for gentleness was over. Walking behind me, he reached over the back of the chaise lounge's back and grabbed the hand holding the wand. Moving it forcefully, he let loose with ten hard and fast swats directly on my sore clitoris. I screamed in agony, my chest heaving as I writhed beneath his hand.

"Enough?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry! Oh god, I'm sorry," I panted, squeezing my thighs together in a futile attempt to lessen the sensory overload.

"Back on," he ordered calmly, releasing his grip on my wrist and moving back to the front of the chair.

I squealed, almost imperceptibly, but dutifully replaced the device. Eyes closed, I hadn't even noticed that Tom had fetched some bondage tape from the satchel, and was now looming over me, holding it in his hand. He ripped a length of it from the roll and grabbed the vibrator from my hand, careful not to lift it from its spot. Angling the handle along my thigh, he wrapped the tape around my leg and the wand, fixing it in place. Now, there would be no reprieve at all. I wasn't sure which was worse.

Once he'd secured it with another piece, Tom stood back up, legs on either side of the chaise again. "Hands behind your head."

I obeyed, and he linked the cuffs I was wearing, clipping them together at the nape of my neck, mindful not to catch on my hair. When he was done, I was already so close to coming I thought for certain I would anyway, independent of any decision my brain made. My body was about to succumb involuntarily, when Tom sat down in front of me, still straddling the seat.

"Now, in a moment, I'm going to allow you to orgasm." I gasped with relief, until he swiftly silenced me with a stern, "Darling."

"I'm sorry, sir. I just… I'm… I'm j-just…"

"Hush." I bit my lip to quiet myself, and he resumed his lecture. "As I said, I am going to let you come. After that, after you let yourself go at my command, the vibrator will stay in place. It will stay, on high, until I see fit to remove it. Every time you climax, you will tell me. And every time, you will be repaying me for the moment of pleasure you had without my blessing. They will not be enjoyable, darling. They will be brutal, painful, and each one will belong completely to me. Understood?"

"Oh god, yes, sir…" Desperate now, my tear-filled eyes wide and expectant, I peered up at him, waiting for him to say the words. Instead, he began to stroke himself again, steadily moving his fingers up and down as he watched me struggle to keep from acquiescing to my body's desires. "Please, sir," I said out loud. Only once. After, I repeated it inaudibly, my lips mouthing the words over and over, but no sound came out.

Apparently pleased with my groveling, he relented. "You may come, Elizabeth."

"Thank you, sir," I managed, but Tom pressed his lips to mine, kissing me deeply as I surrendered. Sobbing into his mouth, I fell hard and fast. My entire body began to quake, twisting and turning involuntarily. Back arched off the chaise, I reveled in my momentary state of pleasure.

Tom didn't wait for it to be over. He broke our kiss, asking against my lips, "Whose orgasm is this? Tell me."

"You… your… ohhhh…. sir," I was barely able to form any words, but he seemed at least relatively satisfied with my response. Rising to a kneeling position, Tom pulled my body down so that I was reclined, and shoved two fingers into my dripping cunt. I cried out. As my orgasm resolved itself, the unending pressure of the vibrator suddenly was unbearable, and the added impact of his fingers made it even worse. "Please, it hurts…"

As he removed his fingers and looked down at me, shivering uncontrollably, my legs unable to keep still, my body recoiling as it tried in vain to lessen the wand's insistent torture, he smiled. And then, he placed his cock inside my entrance and thrust.

One hand on either hip, he held me in place as he began to drive into me roughly, exacerbating every twinge of discomfort from the relentless stimulation. Before I could even think, I could tell another climax was imminent. It wasn't even a question of choice; I couldn't refuse if I tried. My body was now at Tom's mercy.

"Oh god, sir, I'm… I…" Nothing came out after the first few words, though, just a slight squeaking noise and the distinct sounds of me trying to catch my breath.

"Tell me," he hissed, plunging even harder into me, his throbbing cock hitting my cervix with each wickedly placed movement.

"Y… please," I stuttered, but I couldn't say anything more. The ensuing orgasm took me violently. Thrashing and squirming, I didn't even notice that my bound hands had come out from behind my head. Tom was forgiving, saying nothing and letting my arms rest limply on my chest. He certainly didn't abate, though. While I struggled to accept the excruciating combination of acute discomfort and spectacular pleasure, he fucked me savagely. In stark contrast to his usual, placidly beautiful features, his face was now contorted into a feral visage; the only reminders of how controlled he still was were the perfectly enunciated commands he continued to whisper in a composed, barely strained voice.

"Tell me."

"Yours s-sir..."

"Again, darling."

"You… y-yours…" My own words had become mere syllables, squeaky wails and moans without any real words behind them, but Tom knew how much effort I was expending and he granted me some leniency. But the repeated stimulation had rendered my most sensitive spot even more tender still, and I was wearing thin. The moments following orgasm were the worst. Each time a climax subsided, my poor clitoris, now raw and swollen, was inundated with sharp, agonizing discomfort. My voice was so hoarse by this point, my screams became more like broken, stilted whimpers. I wasn't sure I could take much more.

Tom knew. He always did. Slowing his pace momentarily, he dipped down to kiss me, gently claiming my mouth with his own. "You can do it, Elizabeth. That's my girl. Give me everything."

"I c-can't…" I blurted out, even though I had no intention of stopping or safewording. Exhaustion had infiltrated my body and mind, though, and I needed something to help me make it through to the end.

"Yes, you can," he explained calmly. "I believe in you." One last kiss, and he resumed his furious pace, punishing my body just as he rewarded my soul. It was all I wanted, really. Reassurance. Praise. A reminder of why I was doing this: because I loved him utterly, with all that I was, and pleasing him brought me untold spiritual and physical joy.

My breathing slowed slightly, and soon, I relinquished myself totally. No more fighting, no more noises. Of course, the tears still streamed endlessly down my face. Proof of my suffering. This, forced pleasure and the ensuing agony, was surrender in its most basic context. Pure submission.

The final orgasm began, and I opened my mouth in a futile attempt to tell Tom. Before I could, though, my eyes rolled back in my head and I went relatively limp. Suddenly I felt as if I was in a pool of warm, soothing water, a sense of peace engulfing my body and rendering me completely calm and still. Inside, though, nothing could stop the convulsions. My walls clenched Tom's shaft tightly, and it took him only one or two more thrusts before he came.

Immediately Tom switched the wand off before checking on me. His lips against mine, he breathed, "Elizabeth?"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"Look at me, darling." My eyes fluttered open and I heaved a sigh of relief, staring into his gorgeous eyes, seeing the concern etched across his features. Still somewhat in pain, I whimpered softly, but the endorphins were flooding my brain, rewarding me with a nice, calm version of subspace. Blissful, but definitely in the throes of sensory overload. "I'm going to get the scissors, okay?"

"Mmm…" Tom grabbed the bandage scissors and cut the tape that held the wand, gingerly removing it before also clipping and removing the ropes around my legs. My hands remained cuffed, but I shakily reached out and touched his face, beckoning him to me. Done releasing me, he quickly moved up to my side and held me, unclipping my cuffs as he did.

"There's my girl," he hummed tenderly, holding me tightly as he drew me back to cognizance. His index finger pressed into the palm of my trembling hand, and I clutched it, smiling as he continued to murmur in my ear, "My perfect girl. Elizabeth, I love you so much."


End file.
